


Feather

by rainsoakedshoes



Series: 30 Days of Sterek [16]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels Are Known, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Angel Stiles Stilinski, Angel Wings, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Werewolf Derek, i created an elaborate universe in my head for what ended up being g rated hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 10:29:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3171514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainsoakedshoes/pseuds/rainsoakedshoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The angel startled and slipped in the mud made by the running tap. <br/>Derek held up his hands, and let the feather float to the ground. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to see if you’re okay.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feather

**Author's Note:**

> Day 16 - Feather  
> i fell behind with my writing, today really messed me up, and i literally just finished this

Derek was walking up the front steps to his house when something silver glinting in the afternoon sun caught his eye.

On the edge of the garden bed was a large silver feather. Derek bent down to retrieve it and felt the residual magic on it.

“An angel?” Derek whispered to himself. He looked around but there was no one in sight.

Angels were rare, incredibly rare. Derek had never met one in person, at least not that he knew of. When angels were around humans and other supernatural creatures they kept their wings hidden, for their own safety.

There was blood on the end of the feather, as if it had been ripped out of the angels’ wing.

Derek straightened up and looked around again. Now that he had the angels scent he noticed a trail of blood and more feathers leading around the side of the house. He followed the trail and kept the feather gently clutched in his hand. He rounded the corner and spotted the angel, hunched over by the tap on the side of the house.

The angels wings were huge, the silver feathers shimmered in the light of the sun; it looked like they were rippling very time the angel moved. The wings were spotted in blood and clumps of feathers were matted together. The angel was trying to clean them, but couldn’t reach parts of the wings.

“Are you okay?” Derek asked.

The angel startled and slipped in the mud made by the running tap.

Derek held up his hands, and let the feather float to the ground. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to see if you’re okay.”

The angel looked like a twenty year old man – but Derek knew that he couldn’t be certain of age – and was watching Derek with bright, honey coloured eyes. The angels’ dark hair was sticking up at all angles, and there was blood smeared across his cheek.

“What happened to you?” Derek asked, taking a few more steps forward.

The angel looked away. “I got into a fight.”

Derek let out a surprised bark of laughter. “A fight? Aren’t angels supposed to be kind hearted and all that crap?”

The angel snorted. “You’ve obviously never met an angel.”

“I haven’t,” Derek said. “You’re my first.”

“I wish I could say you’re my first werewolf but…” the angel trailed off with a shrug.

“I guess I’ll have to find another way to impress you.” That made the angel crack a smile. “I’m Derek by the way.”

“Stiles.”

Derek didn’t comment on the name. Most angels had uncommon names.

“Listen,” Derek said. “I don’t mean to be rude, but what are you doing o my property?”

Stiles pointed to the woods off to their right. “The fight was in the woods. This is the first place I came to. I don’t have anywhere else to go to get my wings clean.”

Derek’s mouth pulled down into a frown. Every time Stiles moved his wings he grimaced; it was obvious the angel was in pain. “You don’t know anyone nearby who could help you…groom them?”

Stiles shook his head. “I’m new to town, and I can’t go out looking for another angel without hiding my wings. And I can’t hide my wings until I get them clean.”

Derek scrubbed a hand across his face. He couldn’t just leave the angel out here in pain. “Why don’t you come inside?” he said. “It’ll be more comfortable than kneeling in the mud. I might even be able to help you with you wings.” Stiles opened his mouth to argue and Derek held up a hand. “I know. I _know_ the number one rule: don’t touch an angels’ wings. But you’re never going to get them clean by yourself.”

Stiles stared at the ground, considering his options, then stood up. “Okay.”

On the way through Derek’s house Stiles managed to knock over a side table and break a lamp with his wings.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles said as Derek carefully picked up the shards of glass.

“It okay,” Derek assured him. “It’s just a lamp.”

They managed to make it to the kitchen without any more incidents.

Derek’s kitchen was a large room with a solid wooden table at the centre of it. There wasn’t enough room for Stiles to stretch out his wings completely, but there was more room here than there had been in the hall leading in.

“Are you the only one who lives here?” Stiles asked. He sat on the edge of the kitchen table without invitation. The house was big; far too big to house one lone werewolf. “Do you have a pack?”

Derek was at the sink filling a bowl with warm water. “We were on a trip,” he explained. “I came home a day early.”

“Why?”

“Even werewolves like a little time alone occasionally.” Derek said with a shrug. He pulled a clean dish towel from one of the kitchen draws. “Who did you get into a fight with anyway?”

“Faeries,” Stiles said simply.

Derek cringed. “The ones to the west? Yeah, they can be sneaky assholes. We’ve had some problems when it comes to the territory lines.” He set the bowl of water down on the table next to Stiles. “Are you sure you’re okay with me doing this?”

Derek didn’t know exactly _why_ you weren’t supposed to touch an angels wings, just that it was an unspoken rule. Like how you weren’t supposed to touch an elf’s ears, or a mermaids tail, without permission.

Stiles nodded, albeit warily. “You’re right, I’m not going to be able to get them clean by myself.”

Derek dipped the dish towel in the warm water and set about cleaning the blood from the front of Stiles’ left wing. “Tell me if I hurt you.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll know if you hurt me,” Stiles promised.

Stiles’ wings were warm and soft under Derek’s hands. The magic was so much stronger than it had been on the lone feather Derek had picked up; it made Derek’s finger tips tingle as he washed the blood away. Derek tried to avoid touch Stiles’ wings as much as possible, and luckily for him the blood washed out without much trouble.

“You guys must heal as fast as we do,” Derek mused as he rinsed the dish towel and moved onto Stiles right wing. There was no evidence of cuts or scratches on Stiles’ wings, just the blood remained. Derek knew from personal experience injuries made by faeries didn’t always heal easily.

“That’s not the only thing we’re better at than werewolves,” Stiles said, waggling his eyebrows and grinning at Derek.

Derek laughed and looked away from Stiles. There was an old wives tale that said an angel smiling at you was good luck, but it could also be like staring into the sun.

“I’m going to clean the blood off the back of your wings, okay?” Derek stepped around the edge of the table, trying to figure out the best way to get the rest of the blood.

“Step back,” Stiles said.

The angel spoke with such conviction that Derek backed up without question. Stiles manoeuvred himself so he was sitting cross legged on the table, with his back facing Derek.

“That works,” Derek muttered to himself. He glanced down at the bowl in his hands that was full of bloody water. “I’m just going to get some clean water before I keep going.”

Stiles nodded and let his wings stretch out as far as the confines of the kitchen would allow. He winced as the feathers that were still matted together pulled painfully.

Derek worked quietly and carefully until Stiles’ wings were completely clean. The silver feathers were damp, but they still shone in the light coming in through the kitchen windows.

“I’m going to comb out these clumped up feathers now.” Derek didn’t want to do anything without getting the okay from Stiles first. He was still a little in shock over touching an angels wings.

“Just be careful,” Stiles said.

“I will be,” Derek said.

Derek ran his fingers through Stiles’ feathers, separating them and carefully working through the knots of feather. He tried to think about it like brushing his sisters’ hair when she was younger; Cora would always throw a fit when he wasn’t careful enough and pulled her hair.

 “I didn’t know werewolves could be so gentle,” Stiles said quietly after a few minutes.

“You _sure_ I’m not your first werewolf?” Derek teased.

“You’re the first werewolf I’ve let get this close,” Stiles admitted.

Derek pushed his fingers deeper into Stiles’ wings to get at a particularly stubborn section of feathers, and Stiles shuddered and let out a gasp. Derek pulled away instantly.

“Oh God, did I hurt you?”

Stiles took a deep breath. “No. No you didn’t hurt me.”

“Are you sure?”

Stiles nodded. “Keep going.”

Derek hesitated before touching Stiles’ wings again. Stiles shuddered again, but not as violently as the first time.

As he worked to untangle the feathers Derek tried to draw pain out of Stiles, but nothing happened. Stiles was shivering and his heartbeat had picked up, but he wasn’t lying when he said he wasn’t hurt.

Derek stepped back when he was finished with the back of Stiles’ wings. “You can turn around again.”

Stiles drew his wings in as close to his body as he could. They were hurting a lot less, but the still matted feathers pinched and pulled and made him uncomfortable; they still hurt too much to hide.

Stiles slid around on the table so his legs were hanging off the edge. The he spread his wings out again.

Now that he could see Stiles’ face Derek watched the angel carefully as he ran his fingers through his feathers.

Stiles had his eyes shut and was breathing in steadily through his nose. When Derek pushed his fingers deeper into Stiles’ wings Stiles’ mouth dropped open in a small, breathless gasp.

“Are you sure I’m not hurting you?”

Stiles shook his head and licked his lips. He kept his eyes shut. “Not hurting. The opposite, actually.”

Stiles had managed to get most of the broken and matted feathers on the front of his wings, so Derek moved on quickly to Stiles’ second wing. “It feels good?”

Stiles managed a sharp nod. “I’ve never let someone who isn’t an angel touch my wings before.”

“So why let me touch them?”

“You didn’t lie when you said you didn’t want to hurt me,” Stiles said. “And you don’t want to use my feathers for your own gain.”

Derek wondered how Stiles knew he wasn’t lying. “Why are you out here in Beacon Hills alone?”

“Wanted to go somewhere different,” Stiles said with a shrug. He swallowed thickly. “Wanted to be around new people.”

“And you ended up getting into a fight with some Faeries.” Derek had finished combing out Stiles’ feathers and was just running his fingers through the feathers now. Stiles didn’t stop him.

Stiles laughed. “I guess being around new people hasn’t worked out too well. Present company excluded of course,” he added quickly.

“Of course,” Derek echoed. He was standing in between Stiles’ legs at the edge of the table, just running his fingers over the soft feathers.

 

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally going to end with porn but then i wrote it and i _really_ didnt feel like writing porn, sorry. maybe I'll add a second chapter or something when I've finished the 30 days, no promises though  
>  talk to me on [tumblr](http://heavenlyhale.tumblr.com/)


End file.
